Blogger, realist, clarifier, if there is such a term. Truth teller, who's not afraid to admit I'm wrong. Hellacious, renegade violist and "computer whisperer"; was once accused of practicing the Dark Arts with systems.
I'm tougher than most and survived things that would have killed most women. I still love life. I was homeless, now I'm not. Still in the 'hood, though. Nebraska Avenue, 33605. The stories are priceless and endless.

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Friday, April 1, 2016

#A-TO-Z CHALLENGE 2016 LETTER "A"

“A”
is for Avenue and not the Madison kind. That kind denotes swankiness,
and at the very least, some kind of thought or regard, or
tip-of-the-hat to say, “John Madison” and this is not the same at
all. This is regarding Nebraska Avenue, running right spang along the
eastern side I-275 and parallel to Florida Avenue, which is on the
western side of I-275, which runs north-south, in Tampa Florida, of
all places. The only tip-of-the-hat to ANYTHING is the name of 21st
Avenue, which beyond all reason is named “Floribraska” Avenue.
Why? 'Cause Nebraska Avenue. That's the ONLY answer that makes any
sense around here.

Camp Nebraska is still open for business and is a local place for people to camp and visit nearby attractions, like Busch Gardens, our beautiful beaches and Disney World. I couldn't find any information on the history, but it's still open and running. It's probably one of the oldest businesses along Nebraska Avenue.

Well,
not really. Some settlers in the 1870s from Nebraska settled along
this route, which has historically been the way most people have
traveled to get from the frozen tundra of the north to, well here. I,
myself traveled I-75 from Michigan to Florida, which becomes I-275
and runs concurrent with business 41, which is, you guessed it,
Nebraska Avenue. Further south, it becomes the Tamiami Trail, which
wends its way along the byways of Sarasota, Venice and Ft. Myers,
Florida. From there, you have the option of taking Alligator Alley
due east across the state to West Palm Beach, or just continuing
south-southeast past Naples, all the way across the bottom of the state to Coral Gables.

A murder investigation on Nebraska Avenue. These are actually atypical. Most crime involves burglar, petit theft and assault and battery. I have had friends shot though, mainly because they were in places they had no business being. There is a "small town" quality to Nebraska Ave. and several networks of communication between various groups, so that we know where we should or shouldn't be. Of course, there are those, who are out looking to make a buck, either with selling drugs, or themselves. They're a surprisingly wily and healthy lot.

But,
Nebraska Avenue is different because it has had the reputation as a
hard-living area. The merchants who did settle here, named their
businesses after their old home state, and attempts to change the
name of the Avenue have been met with stiff opposition, my voice
among them. “Nebraska Tires” would seem odd on “Pedro Menéndez
de Avilés Avenue”. The idea of a name-change created a firestorm
for other reasons as well. Ole Pedro was a 16th century
governor in St. Augustine, Florida. Pedro was responsible for the
genocide of French Protestants, so, even though the words “Nebraska
Avenue” may connote drug use and 'hos, we aren't quite up to
practicing genocide here. Yet.

Not
to mention the fact that it would cost thousands of dollars to change
ALL of the street signs from “Nebraska Ave.” to “Pedro Menéndez
de Avilés Ave.”, so nothing has been heard about this little name
change since 2013. On top of that, we'd have to change the conundrum
of “Floribraska Ave.” to “Floridro Menéndez de Avilés Ave.”?
Not that “Floribraska Ave.” is any prize and I'm really perplexed
at the decision to name what is really 21st Avenue to
“Floribraska Ave.” just because it intersects “Florida Ave.”
on one side of I-275 and “Nebraska Ave.” on this, the eastern
side of I-275.

The
first time I saw "Floribraska Ave." on the street sign, I
thought it was some kind of mistake. Why on earth anyone
thought 21stAve.
needed to be named "Floribraska Ave." just because it was
connected to both "Florida" and "Nebraska" Aves.
is really beyond any logical comprehension or conclusion I can reach.
There are no other streets in Tampa named thusly. Someone in Civil
Engineering must have gone on a drunken tear one Friday afternoon,
before the naming of street names became something the City Council
got it's weasel claws into.

Just
think if settlers from other states had claimed the rights to
“Nebraska Ave.”, like say Kansas. “Florisas Ave.” sounds like
Sasparilla, or Sarsparilla; something you might sip on of a lazy
afternoon, when the bullets have died down. But, I think everyone
around here drinks brake fluid, so that's just a southern conceit of
mine. Or, say, Texas. “Florixas Ave.” would most likely have
people thinking it's Christmas all the time. The combinations are
endless and like the “Blips” would undoubtedly sprout its own
unique culture, that is already somewhat slightly worse than Cass
Corridor in Detroit, but not as deadly as south Bawlmer as depicted
in “The Wire”.

This picture was the lead-in to an article "How to Confuse a Hooker" and it was regarding the name change of "Nebraska Ave." to “Pedro Menéndez de Avilés Avenue”. I highly doubt this would work. What mostly happens, is the police chase all the hookers north for a while, and prostitution dies down for a while on South Nebraska. Then, some irate businesses get on the police up on north Nebraska, and the cops go harass the hookers up there for a while. Then, the hookers all run down here, to the southern part of Nebraska. This has been going on for years.

When
I lived in the homeless shelter, I spent several evenings being
highly entertained by the TPD, as they ran a “sting” near our
shelter. We were all sitting on the front porch, the best place to
view all the action that goes on at night, right there on the Avenue.
At first, we could not figure out, why these two dewds in a huge,
lemon of a black Lincoln Continental were backing into our driveway
and then pulling out. They did this several times. Me, being about
the least street-savvy person (or giving the best impression of one)
was yukking it up about what a couple of dim-bulbs these two idiots
were. Were they lost?

I lived in the green house next to the white house, when I was homeless. The white house was a notorious whore house way back in the days of Teddy Roosevelt and up into the 30s and 40s, I believe. It is a historical monument, and is part of V. M. Ybor, which is part of Ybor City, famous for its hand-rolled cigars. Now, the white house is respectable, and I can see it from where I live; my "pretend-adopted son" Alex lives there. We're each other's family.

When
I lived in the homeless shelter, I spent several evenings being
highly entertained by the TPD, as they ran a “sting” near our
shelter. We were all sitting on the front porch, the best place to
view all the action that goes on at night, right there on the Avenue.
At first, we could not figure out, why these two dewds in a huge,
lemon of a black Lincoln Continental were backing into our driveway
and then pulling out. They did this several times. Me, being about
the least street-savvy person (or giving the best impression of one)
was yukking it up about what a couple of dim-bulbs these two idiots
were. Were they lost?

Across
the street, this woman, dressed as if she were about to head into the
office and take a meeting was strolling back and forth between the
“La Ideal Market” and the Laundromat. No one stopped to talk to
her. She strolled back and forth; back and forth, while the dewds
backed into our driveway, pulled out, went around the block and
repeated the backing into the driveway and, so forth. What we were
seeing was the world's most incompetent sting, I believe. I think
they picked up one guy, and then they all left. But seriously, TPD,
if you're gonna run a hooker “sting”, you need to make your bait
look like a hooker, not a CEO. So, that was a fun two hours.

A
little while later, 4 guys came up to us, carrying a 40-foot ladder, that they had probably just stolen.
They wanted to know if we wanted to buy the ladder for 40 dollars. We
all looked at one another. Did we look like we needed a ladder at 11 p.m.? I
didn't think so. We sent them on their way. This is as bad as the
time my shelter friend Holly's boyfriend asked her if she had a
hacksaw in her purse. His name was Ray-Ray; a miscreant's name if ever. More about them, later. Nebraska Avenue is where reality has gone
completely out the window and you never know what's around the
corner.

Nebraska Avenue today. This is a mixed-zoning area, which makes it impossible to try and police. Businesses sit cheek-by-jowl with residences and empty lots. The opportunity is here to make lots and lots of money; both legally and illegally. Because it is a "main drag" police have nabbed such luminaries here as Daryl Strawberry, the baseball player and many politicians and other athletes, looking to score drugs and/or hookers. I'm pretty sure you can get anything here, including heavy and illegal military weaponry.

I'll
talk a bit more about that and our own “opportunity zones”,
regarding the hookers, that were also a part of that show, later on
in the Challenge, But, for now, just revel in the naming of streets
and how they do or do not come about, here. 'Cause Nebraska Avenue!

Itinerant violist and computer trouble-shooter for more years than I care to admit. While no longer homeless, still crazy, but with Labels *sigh* a bus-riding Asperger, bipolar-ridden, PD or non-PD, carbon life-form, providing fodder for Medical community. Not even kidding. Still ridiculous.

Acquiring a much richer and fuller experience and finding deeper meaning in day to day life, than I ever learned in a classroom, concert hall, or computer center. I will never believe that things just occur randomly, just monumentally disordered.

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Eventually everything happens on Nebraska Avenue. The pimps have been here, both the real and the political. The athletes and the artists. It's a life, a state of mind and it's home, Nebraska Avenue, 33605, 33602 and 33604.

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I Haz Home Naow - in Kitty Heaven

My Rent-a-Kitty, has become a Perma-Kitty, Mama, although she passed away, nearly one year to the day that Jim died. She actually adopted Jim first, then me.